Why the colleague card is its own problem

The word colleague is doing a lot of work in this article and it is worth being precise about it. A coworker, in the way I use it, is someone you work with day to day. You share a manager, a slack channel that is mostly your two teams, a calendar of recurring meetings. You know what their on-call rotation looks like. A friend at work, separately, is someone you would invite to your wedding even if you both left the company tomorrow. A colleague is the broad middle. Cross-team, project-based, three-floors-apart, the person you have copied on twenty docs but never had a one-on-one with. The person who joined your meeting for forty minutes a week for two years. The vendor partner from the other office. The person you met at three onboardings ago and stayed loosely connected to.

Card-writing fails differently in this tier than in the other two. For a coworker, the failure is sloppy specificity, because you have so many specifics that you reach for the easiest one. For a friend, the failure is over-formality, writing the card as if HR will read it. For a colleague, the failure is that you do not have enough specifics to be specific and you have too many to be honest about the distance, so you split the difference with a sentence that could fit on any card on any desk in any office in the country. Wishing you the best. Great working with you. Stay in touch. Three lines, none of them wrong, none of them earning the card the recipient is going to read.

One commercial disclosure up front so you know where I am writing from. RecoCards is a group-card platform and the second half of this article points at our product as a way to fix the geometry problem the colleague card runs into (more on that below). The diagnostic and the worked examples do not depend on the platform. Paste them into a Hallmark card if you want to.

The three-question pre-write that fixes most colleague cards

Before you put a pen anywhere near the card, answer three short questions in your head. You do not need to write the answers down. You need them to be specific enough that you could say them out loud to a person standing next to you without sounding vague.

Question one. What is the one moment with this person I actually remember? Not the project. Not the role they played. The moment. The afternoon they called you from a conference room in another city because the vendor was about to walk and you had the contact. The hallway conversation in October about the org rumour that turned out to be true. The Friday they backed your idea in the design review when nobody else had. The Slack DM at 9pm thanking you for catching a typo on a deck before it went to the board. If you cannot find one specific moment after twenty seconds of trying, you are not in the colleague tier with this person, you are in the acquaintance tier, and the appropriate card for that tier is shorter, not longer.

Question two. What would I say to them if we ran into each other in three years? Most cards are written as if the conversation ends with the card. It almost never does. Colleagues you have worked with even loosely tend to reappear at industry meetups, in the credits of a new product launch in your inbox, in your LinkedIn feed at oddly recurring intervals. The card you write is going to be the last thing you said to them before that next conversation. Write it so that next conversation has somewhere to start.

Question three. Would I be embarrassed if they read this card aloud to their new team? Not because the line is too warm. Because the line is too generic. The card the leaver tapes on their new desk is the one with one real sentence in it that nobody else on the floor would have written. The cards that get recycled the same week are the ones with three sentences that could have been written by any of two hundred people. Generic warmth is technically warm and functionally indistinguishable from politeness.

If you answered all three questions and still have nothing, the honest move is the short sincere line from a near-stranger. See the worked example at the end of that section below. The dishonest move is to bluff with a paragraph.

Worked examples by colleague subtype (24 lines)

These are organized by the subtype of colleague-ness, because the subtype changes what the card has to do. Pick the one that fits your actual relationship, not the one you wish you had. Each line below is a worked example, meaning the names and details are illustrative and you should swap your own in. The point is the shape and the calibration, not the specific words.

The project colleague (you worked on one thing together, sometimes intensely)

This is the cleanest version of the colleague tier. You and the leaver were on the same project, the project ended, and you have not had a real reason to work together since. The card should reference the project specifically, and it should treat the project as finished in a way that closes the loop without overstating the closeness. Six lines below.

  • The vendor migration in the fall of 2022 would have collapsed without you on the call at 9pm that Thursday. Wishing you a smooth landing at the new place.
  • We worked on exactly one project together, and it is one of the projects I think about most often when I write a postmortem now. Best of luck.
  • You were the project lead I was lucky to get on the migration. Glad it was you. Wishing you a team that knows your worth from day one.
  • Going to miss the Wednesday syncs.
  • You taught me, on that one project, that the right move when a vendor goes silent is to call rather than email. I have stolen that move probably forty times since. Thank you, and best of luck.
  • The migration project was the hardest one I ran here and you made it survivable. The thing you said about scoping the rollback first is the thing I now say to everyone. Have a brilliant next chapter, and the door is open if our paths cross again.

The recurring-meeting colleague (you sat in the same standup or steering committee for months)

This one is the trickiest because the relationship feels closer than it is. You know what their voice sounds like at 9am. You know they always call in from the car on Tuesdays. You know the way they say no to a bad idea. You also have never had a real conversation with them. The card should name the meeting habit, not the depth, and it should be light enough to not overclaim. Five lines.

  • Eighteen months of the same Monday morning standup, and you were the only person who consistently arrived caffeinated. Going to miss that.
  • You were the steady voice in the steering committee, and the meeting will be longer and less useful without you in it. Best of luck.
  • I will miss the way you cut the ten-minute tangents off at minute three. Wishing you a new team that schedules shorter meetings.
  • You always called in from the car on Tuesdays. The 9am tone of the call will not be the same.
  • Going to miss the version of the all-team review where you were the person making the second-best point. (Whoever was making the best point can fight me later.) Best of luck out there.

The floor colleague (you shared physical space but never the work)

You and the leaver have been in the same office for two or three years. You have said hello on roughly two hundred Tuesdays. You have lent each other a phone charger. You have never been on the same project, the same team, or the same call. This is the most common version of the colleague tier in offices that still have offices, and it is the one most often produces the generic card, because the writer cannot find the work to name. The fix is to name the space, the small recurring kindness, the noticed thing. Four lines.

  • You are the only person on the third floor who ever offered me their phone charger without me having to ask. Wishing you a new office full of people who notice the small stuff like that.
  • The kitchen is going to be quieter without your laugh at the 11am coffee window. Best of luck at the next place.
  • I never got to work with you, but I noticed you. Wishing you well wherever this goes.
  • You have been one of the easier presences on this floor for the three years I have been here, and presence is its own kind of contribution. Best of luck.

The cross-functional colleague (you worked across teams a few times)

You belong to engineering, they belong to design, or you are in marketing and they are in legal. You overlapped on three or four cross-functional projects across the year. You respect their work. You do not know them socially. This card has the most natural shape, because cross-functional appreciation usually comes with a specific instance attached. Five lines.

  • The way you handled the legal review on the pricing page launch in May saved that quarter for my team. I never properly thanked you. I am thanking you now.
  • You are the only design partner I have worked with who could absorb three rounds of contradictory feedback from product without losing the through-line. The next product team is lucky. Best of luck.
  • Three projects in a year, and you made every one of them better. Going to miss the version of cross-team work where the response was always quick. Stay in touch.
  • You were the marketing partner I would have asked for if I had been given the choice, and somehow on three different occasions the org chart got that right. Wishing you a strong start.
  • Cross-functional partnerships usually feel like extra work. The ones with you felt like collaboration. That distinction is rarer than it should be. Best of luck.

The once-close colleague who drifted (and then they left)

This is the hardest subtype to write for, because the relationship used to be tighter and slid into the colleague tier for reasons neither of you ever named out loud. The reorg moved your teams. The remote shift changed the daily rhythm. They went on parental leave and came back to a different scope. The card has to acknowledge the present distance without dwelling on it, and it has to honour the closer past without sounding nostalgic. Four lines.

  • Hard to write this card without the early years coming up. The reorg moved us apart and the work has not quite given us a way back. Wishing you everything good at the next place. Coffee soon, I mean it.
  • We worked closely for a stretch, and then less closely for longer, and either way I have been quietly rooting for you the whole time. Best of luck out there.
  • The first project I ran here, you were in the room for. The last project, we barely overlapped. The thing you taught me in that first room, I still use. Thank you, and goodbye for now.
  • I owe you a longer conversation than this card has room for. Send me your address.

The honest short line (when you genuinely do not have a specific to draw on)

Sometimes the answer is that you are not actually in the colleague tier with this person. You overlapped at the company. You exchanged a handful of Slacks. You attended the same offsite once. The card-writing tradition assumes you should write something warm anyway, and the result is the line I wrote for Rafael in the opener of this article, which was a line I would have written for a person I had never met. The honest move is to write the line you would actually mean, which is short and sincere and does not pretend to closeness you have not earned.

A few worked examples for this. "Best of luck with what's next, wherever it is." "Sorry our paths did not cross more. Wishing you well." "From across the org, thank you for the work I did get to see." "Hope the next role treats you right." Any of these is better than a paragraph that overshoots, because the recipient can tell the difference between a paragraph of warmth and a paragraph of polite filler, and the second one undercuts the cards next to it that were written by people who actually knew them. If the leaver was on your team and you genuinely worked alongside them, our farewell messages for a coworker guide is the more direct fit. For the broader cluster, the full goodbye-card guide covers the three-part formula in more depth.

What to skip in the colleague card specifically

Some lines are common enough on colleague-tier farewell cards that they read as filler the moment the recipient opens the envelope. They are not wrong. They are warm. They are also indistinguishable from any other card the recipient is going to receive that day.

"It was great working with you" is the canonical one. It is the line I wrote in 2023 and the line that taught me to write this article. It signals that the writer did not have a specific thing to draw on, or did not bother to find one. "Wishing you all the best at the new place" is the second-most-common. "Stay in touch" as a closing line is the third. None of these are bad sentences. They become bad sentences when they are the only sentences on the card.

A second pattern worth skipping in the colleague tier specifically is the fake intimacy line. "You were one of the best people I have ever worked with" reads as a stretch when the writer and the leaver have worked together on one project for six weeks two years ago. The leaver knows this. Calibrate the warmth to the actual relationship. Honest small warmth always lands. Stretched large warmth always tells.

One more, which is more of a habit than a phrase. Do not write the colleague card as if the leaver is moving to another planet. Most of the time they are moving to another company in the same city, and most of the time you will see them at an industry event, a vendor demo, a wedding, a former-colleague drinks night, sometime in the next three years. Write the card so that next encounter has somewhere to start. "Coffee in the new neighbourhood, name the date" is a real open door. "Wishing you all the best on your journey" is a polite full stop that closes the relationship the card was supposed to extend.

Turn it into a group card the right people sign

The colleague-tier farewell card has a geometry problem that the coworker-tier card does not. The leaver had a wide loose network at the company. The project partners on the third floor, the cross-functional partners in two other buildings, the recurring-meeting colleagues in three time zones, the floor colleagues from the old office before the move. A paper card passed around a single floor collects signatures from the people physically present. It misses the cross-functional partners, the remote folks, the contractor who worked with the leaver for nine months, the colleague who moved to the satellite office in February. The leaver opens a card with twelve scrawled signatures from one floor and notices that the people who would have written the most specific lines were the ones never asked.

A virtual farewell card online closes that gap. One link, sent to the actual network rather than the immediate floor, and each person writes their own line on their own time. The cross-functional partner can paste in the specific instance from the launch in May. The remote teammate can write the line they would have written if they had been in the office that Tuesday. You can create a card online in a couple of minutes, set the delivery for their last day, add a cover photo from a team offsite, and seed the card with one specific opening line so the tone is set before the rest of the network signs.

If the leaver was a peer rather than a true colleague, the farewell messages for a coworker bank is the closer match. If they were a remote teammate, the farewell messages for a remote teammate piece covers that distance specifically. If you find yourself on the other side of one of these cards as the recipient, the how to respond to a farewell message guide goes into what to say back. And if you are also thinking about a small parting gift to go with the card, the best farewell gifts for a coworker piece is the adjacent companion.

One last thing, off-topic and probably just for me. The thing I remember about Rafael in March 2023 is not actually the card I wrote. It is the morning I walked past his desk on his last day and saw the cards stacked on the corner. There were nine of them, in a tidy pile, weighted by his keyboard. He had not opened any of them yet. I do not know which one of those nine he opened first or which one he kept. I do know that he sent me a LinkedIn message about a year later that referenced the vendor migration and asked a specific question about a vendor we had used. The conversation that started from that message is one I am still in. I have been quietly grateful, on and off, that I had something specific to remember from the project so I could write back without hesitating. The card I wrote in 2023 was empty. The conversation a year later was specific. Those two facts are related, and they are the entire reason I have written this article in the way I have.